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Author Topic: St. Andr Bessette  (Read 275 times)

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Offline poche

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St. Andr Bessette
« on: January 07, 2016, 12:44:41 AM »
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  • Brother André expressed a saint's faith by a lifelong devotion to Saint Joseph.

    Sickness and weakness dogged André from birth. He was the eighth of twelve children born to a French Canadian couple near Montreal. Adopted at twelve, when both parents had died, he became a farmhand. Various trades followed: shoemaker, baker, blacksmith-all failures. He was a factory worker in the United States during the boom times of the cινιℓ ωαr.

    At twenty-five, he applied for entrance into the Congregation of the Holy Cross. After a year's novitiate, he was not admitted because of his weak health. But with an extension and the urging of Bishop Bourget (see Marie-Rose Durocher, October 6), he was finally received. He was given the humble job of doorkeeper at Notre Dame College in Montreal, with additional duties as sacristan, laundry worker and messenger. "When I joined this community, the superiors showed me the door, and I remained forty years."

    In his little room near the door, he spent much of the night on his knees. On his windowsill, facing Mount Royal, was a small statue of Saint Joseph, to whom he had been devoted since childhood. When asked about it he said, "Some day, Saint Joseph is going to be honored in a very special way on Mount Royal!"

    When he heard someone was ill, he visited to bring cheer and to pray with the sick person. He would rub the sick person lightly with oil taken from a lamp burning in the college chapel. Word of healing powers began to spread.

    When an epidemic broke out at a nearby college, André volunteered to nurse. Not one person died. The trickle of sick people to his door became a flood. His superiors were uneasy; diocesan authorities were suspicious; doctors called him a quack. "I do not cure," he said again and again. "Saint Joseph cures." In the end he needed four secretaries to handle the eighty thousand letters he received each year.

    For many years the Holy Cross authorities had tried to buy land on Mount Royal. Brother André and others climbed the steep hill and planted medals of Saint Joseph. Suddenly, the owners yielded. André collected two hundred dollars to build a small chapel and began receiving visitors there-smiling through long hours of listening, applying Saint Joseph's oil. Some were cured, some not. The pile of crutches, canes and braces grew.

    The chapel also grew. By 1931 there were gleaming walls, but money ran out. "Put a statue of Saint Joseph in the middle. If he wants a roof over his head, he'll get it." The magnificent Oratory on Mount Royal took fifty years to build. The sickly boy who could not hold a job died at ninety.

    He is buried at the Oratory and was beatified in 1982. On December 19, 2009, Pope Benedict XVI promulgated a decree recognizing a second miracle at Blessed André’s intercession and on October 17, 2010, Pope Benedict XVI formally declared sainthood for Blessed André.

    - See more at: http://www.catholicculture.org/culture/liturgicalyear/calendar/day.cfm?date=2016-01-06#sthash.NzKdS5OZ.dpuf


    Offline poche

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    St. Andr Bessette
    « Reply #1 on: January 07, 2016, 12:50:36 AM »
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  • Here is what one columnist had to say about Brother Andre;
    On this feast of St. Andre Bessette it seems appropriate to tell my own story.

     Several years ago, shortly after I had been diagnosed with prostate cancer, my sister visited the Oratory in Montreal and brought me back a medal of Brother Andre, reminding me that he had been involved in countless physical cures. I gratefully took the medal and put it in my pocket, along with my spare change—as close as practical to the site of the problem.

    The doctors had assured me that the cancer was very small, and probably growing very slowly, so that there was no need for immediate treatment. We agreed that I would wait for a while and schedule a second biopsy to see where I stood. The months went by, there were no signs of trouble, so I actually waited almost two years.

    During that time, every morning I would scoop the medal and some coins off the top of my dresser, and toss them into my pocket; every evening they’d go back on the dresser. I’d like to say that I said a little prayer for Brother Andre’s intercession every time I handled the medal. The truth is that it had become a part of my routine, often done mindlessly. Still, I did shoot off many a quick message.

    Finally the results of the second biopsy came in. There was no sign of cancer.

    There was a perfectly logical, straightforward explanation for this result, the doctors said. The cancer was probably still there, lurking in the organ, but it was so small that the biopsy probes missed it. If it was still that small, two years after it had first been detected, then it was growing so slowly that it was unlikely to cause any problems in my lifetime. (The cancer, they said, is "occult" and "indolent"-- don't you love the terminology?) So for all practical purposes I could stop worrying about it—which I have done.

    On the morning after I heard that good news, when I swept the loose change off my dresser, I noticed that the medal of St. Andre was missing. Curious. I checked the pocket of the trousers I had been wearing the previous day. Not there, either. I have never found it.

    Now you might be persuaded by the doctors’ explanation of the biopsy result; it makes perfect sense. And you may think that the medal just happened to slip out of my pocket while I was running errands around town. That theory makes perfect sense, too. But don’t you think it’s quite a coincidence that the medal disappeared—after nestling safely in my pocket for two years—the same day that I heard the biopsy results?

    There is another explanation, equally logical—especially if, like me, you’re more inclined to believe in miracles than in coincidences. My theory is that Brother Andre was letting me know that he’d taken care of business.

    - See more at: http://www.catholicculture.org/commentary/the-city-gates.cfm?id=1210#sthash.N0hpXqHT.dpuf